


Detecting the Undetectable

by BumbleBooty



Series: Commissions [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Body Shots, Consensual Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Hunter/Prey - Freeform, Jazz rides Prowl like the showhorse he is, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pheromones, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tracking, but Jazz realizes what's happening and is so okay with it, coding conflict, commission, human like anatomy, mild non-con at first, ops code, softbody bots, wing play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-30 22:45:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12662973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumbleBooty/pseuds/BumbleBooty
Summary: Jazz goes into heat shortly after a mission ends, causing Prowl to hunt down his heat-addled lover.





	Detecting the Undetectable

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for the darling http://citrus-art-and-life.tumblr.com/!  
> Hope you enjoy~!

Prowl fluttered his wings with nervous anxiety, glancing at the chronometer for what felt like the trillionth time. He forced himself back to work, tearing through reports with a ferocity that betrayed his worry for his missing mate. The matching monochrome should have been back on base over a joor ago, but hasn't even called in since his team confirmed extraction. Prowl glanced at the clock again, dropping the datapad to rub the heels of his palms against his optics. His helm shot up when his door chimed, but his wings visibly dipped when the door revealed blue and white. Mirage gracefully bowed- a remnant of his tower days- before entering the office. Prowl did his best to seem professional, but he obviously failed the scrutinization of those golden optics. 

"Jazz has not returned yet, has he?" Prowl shook his helm, doing his best to keep his wings from dipping even lower. Mirage's polite smile slipped to a delicate frown, and he shifted his gaze slightly while he pinged his commander. "Perhaps we should look for him. He mentioned in passing that he felt 'warmer' before our mission, and had obvious difficulties with his thermo-conductor  _during_  our mission. There might be an ailment he was too-prideful to mention." Prowl nodded, logging out of his station and standing. Mirage shifted his weight slightly, pinging Prowl with a set of coordinates.  

'46.2504° N, 122.1528° W'- that wasn't too horribly far from the volcano's base. Mirage helpfully elaborated as they both left the office, Hound joining them on the way to the main exit. "When we passed that point, Jazz said he needed to check on something-then diverted from our course. I have neither seen nor heard from him since. That was about...twenty Earth-minutes ago." Prowl pinged Red Alert to inform him of their departure, but the security director didn't particularly like the fact that Prowl would not tell him  _exactly where_  they were searching. The ops crew and the former enforcer knew for a fact that Red would send backup- which would force Jazz deep into hiding if his Xops coding was the set going haywire.

After a quick plan- gratefully supplied by Prowl's passive subroutines- the trio transformed and sped off into the night. It took mere minutes for Prowl to reach Jazz' last known coordinates, and the worried Praxian barely had time to slam his breaks when the sickly-sweet smell drifted through his olfactory senses. Prowl transformed back into his root mode, turning in a slow circle to survey the area. His wings hiked high, and he shuddered as he barely registered he had instinctually dialed the sensors to high. He stood still for a long moment, listening and smelling intently before he realized what the smell  _was._

_Jazz has gone into heat._

Prowl quickly pinged the others- as well as Ratchet- to inform them of the discovery. The two mates politely bowed out of their search, intending to head back and debrief their ops-mission to Optimus. Prowl set himself and Jazz to off-duty, and the enforcer was thoroughly amused when it was instantaneously approved by Ratchet, and upgraded to a medical order of leave.

Prowl transformed, playfully flashing his lights once as he cruised forwards- taking in the desperate scent of need that surrounded him. He weaved in and out of trees, following the scent where it was strongest...only for it to suddenly disappear, and Prowl had to reverse to check the other paths. Now confident his lover was nesting somewhere, Prowl felt his spark begin to spin faster and faster as he expertly tracked that intoxicating scent. Not many mecha would peg Prowl as the tracking type, but there was an _actual_ reason he climbed the ranks of Praxis' homicide unit so quickly. 

That beautifully rich scent drew him deeper and deeper into the woods, winding back along the lake's bank and past a small sign reading 'Windy Ridge Viewpoint- .5 miles'. Jazz' scent took a sharp left, winding back towards the base with an obviously complex trail- those with less knowledge of Jazz would never be able to follow it. Prowl purred as his tac-net supplied him with a 92% chance that this path was meant for  _him_. Jazz wanted to play, and knew his lover would be on the hunt. Prowl floored it when the scent dropped off suddenly, his sirens blaring as a flash of white disappeared past a wall of rock. 

The game of cat and mouse was on- both mech redlining their engines as they ducked and weaved through trees, past boulders, through a small ravine and hooking back up- towards the opposite side of Mt. St. Hillary. That sneaky _prick_.

The path quickly became too difficult to traverse by wheel, and the chase switched to root mode. Jazz was more graceful than ever, effortlessly managing to keep his distance from Prowl. He could disappear into the darkness like the specter most believed him to be, but Prowl frequently caught sight of a pede disappearing from view, or a  flash of Jazz' visor disappearing in the darkness of the woods with a Cheshire laugh.

Prowl glanced around as the sound of pedefalls suddenly stopped, and his wings felt as if they would fall off if he fluttered them even faster. He carefully surveyed the area- dense,  _dense_ woods that crawled up the back of the mountain provided perfect cover for a rouge ops-agent. The surroundings were nearly pitch-black, the local flora and fauna trapping Jazz' sent in a natural dampener. Prowl proceeded slowly, using vorn of experience to search for his prize. Each inch was surveyed in a serial search, and Prowl barely resisted the urge to drop to all fours to start checking under bushes- before the ground suddenly disappeared and he damn near fell into the seemingly-endless void of the pit in the Earth. 98.7% chance of natural causation. 100% chance of Jazz.

Prowl carefully lowered himself into the natural cave, switching off his optics as he slid deeper into the pitch-black structure. He took deep breaths, relying on his nose to locate the elusive Polyhexian. He followed the smell through the various tunnels- some of them a dangerous squeeze for his larger bumper and wings- and eventually came nose-to-scent with a positively  _saturated_  room. Prowl reactivated his optics to see a single point of light on the far side of the narrow channel- a shimmering visor, washing pristine white with the hue of a clear blue sky. 

In that moment, Prowl wanted nothing more than to tear into that glittering paint, to mark him as his own and make sure his saboteur remained beneath him forever. Prowl crept forwards, half-crawling due to the lower ceilings in the narrow tunnel. He watched Jazz like a hawk, dedicating each little shift and clench of the pearly white thighs to his memory. His audials finally picked up on Jazz' labored breathing, half snarling when Jazz shifted his leg to lay flat on the ground. Prowl could now hear the stress in his engine, and was keenly aware of that integrated visor monitoring- probably recording- every move Prowl made. Prowl stood to his full height after he squeezed out of the tunnel's entrance, making a show of stretching his doorwings and fluffing his plating before letting them settle into a smooth coat. 

Jazz whimpered, obviously digging his claws into the dirt to keep from jumping the other mech then and there. Prowl paused a few steps before his wayward lover, purring deep within his chest. "You gave us quite a scare love. Disappearing off on your own after a mission." Jazz' engine half-turned over, aborting with a sharp whine. "Couldn't go back. They'll know. I can't-" Prowl shushed him, kneeling before his obviously paranoid mate. "It's alright love. If anyone followed, I do believe we have lost them in the woods. You are a marvelous escapist after all." 

Jazz keened one more, his visor dulling as he instinctually lent in closer to Prowl. "My beautiful Jazz. You smell delicious love. It makes me wonder how long you've been suppressing this cycle, hoping it would just go away..." Jazz put his servos on Prowl's bumper, claws lightly scraping across polished headlights. "Then you go on a  _mission._  Primus dearling, you must be  _ravenous_." Prowl pulled a cube from his subspace, delicately lifting it to Jazz' mouth. Jazz wrapped his lips around the corner of the cube,  offlining his visor completely as he leaned into his lover's arms to drain the Energon.  He finished it in record time, betraying the underlying hunger from the mission. Prowl was always prepared though, and had several more cubes in his subspace for his lover's enjoyment. 

He pulled them out to set them aside, Jazz watching him pointedly with a growing grin. The ops commander leant forwards in an eerily serpentine manner, claiming Prowl's lips as his own. Prowl slid his arm around Jazz' waist, purring his engine as arms slid around his neck. The pheromones Jazz was dumping smelled divine, and Prowl found himself leaning to the kiss more and more as what was left of the world slowly dripped away.

Jazz was soon sandwiched against the wall, mewling hungrily as he clawed Prowl's shoulders and upper back. Some rationale returned in the form of a quiet ping in Prowl's processor, reminding him that Jazz needs Energon to develop their sparklings. He blindly groped around for a cube, moving to nip and lick at Jazz' throat to keep the heated mech pliable. Prowl raised the full cube to Jazz' lips, but jumped when Jazz quickly gripped his wrist and forced the cube to upturn over his bumper. Prowl pulled back quickly, but Jazz met his gaze with a mischievous grin. 

Jazz leant in, striping his glossa in a long lick from Prowl's grille to his shoulder mount, savoring the shudder of delicate doorwings. Prowl shifted his balance to support Jazz' weight, and Jazz took the opportunity to hook his servos beneath Prowl's bumper with a hungry growl. "How delicious~ A Prowler-flavored cube~" Prowl had to bite back his vocalizations in a desperate attempt to save some face, but physically surrendered to Jazz' insistent pushing. The Praxian leant back on his hands, his legs resting over Jazz' own to cradle the smaller mech with his frame. Jazz took his time lapping at the Energon, purring loudly as it dried to a more jelly-like texture. Deciding the position wasn't quite right, Jazz used his unnatural levels of flexibility to hoist his legs over Prowl's own- straddling his waist to grind down on his beloved tactician's spike panel with a deliberate roll. 

 _That_  made Prowl groan, his wings pitching upwards as something lukewarm slid down the sensitive surfaces. Jazz purred happily, shifting his weight in a wave that left Prowl mesmerized. All his weight was balanced on a single white pede, and it was a labyrinthine balance that reminded Prowl just how precarious this situation was- Alone with a heat-driven Spec-ops agent, with no one knowing where they  _were._ It added a thrill to the situation, and Jazz shifted his weight to his hand as he expertly crawled to sit behind Prowl. 

 The Praxian was rather roughly shoved from his place in his own head when Jazz' warm glossae slid over the lower edge of his left wing. Prowl's claws sank into the loose dirt, locking all his joints as more of Jazz' frame slid against his backplates. A servo playfully popped his handle, and Prowl's engine whined. "'Ave I ever told ya how beautiful ya are Prowler? All shiny and lickable~" The statement was punctuated with a long vertical stripe up the main panel. If Prowl was upright, he undoubtedly would have fallen to his knees. A tickling pressure against his stomach was the only warning Prowl got before those onyx digits stroked his spike panel. The growl just behind his helm set his sensornet to high alert, and the opposite hand digging into the sensitive hinge prompted the reflexive release of his spike into Jazz' waiting hand.

Prowl could feel the heated exvents across his cheek before lips pressed against his Jaw. Any hope for relief was both dashed and granted simultaneously, the quick strokes against his spike forcing advanced subroutines to redirect, and Prowl barely had time to track the alterations to Jazz' pheromones' influence before his logic center went dark. He growled darkly as Jazz' tongue finished off his wings- the ops mech nearly snapping his spike to crawl back under Prowl's arm and up his chest to claim another kiss. With the scuff of a thigh and surprisingly sticky digits, Prowl's spike was suddenly engulfed in the boiling hot pit of Jazz' being. 

Prowl would later regret not recording the noises that escaped Jazz as he  _finally_  began to scratch that pit-damned  _itch_  that had been bothering him for  _days_. His Polyhexian roots were betrayed by the trills that bounced off the cave walls around them, more than loud enough to mask the slick sound of thrusting. Prowl wound up clutching Jazz' hips as if they were his only lifeline, resting his helm on his friend-turned-lover's chest to listen to the delighted purring resonating from beneath the bumper. Jazz watched with delight, rolling his valve with each thrust as his not-sticky servo caressed Prowl's helm lovingly. 

Jazz let his helm lull back, purring happily as he rode that delightfully thick spike that he  _definitely_  should have tried to sit on earlier in the heat cycle. His visor offlined, and Jazz tried his best not to tear off Prowl's shoulder guards when his first overload hit him like Astrotrain. He outright whined as he ground down on Prowl's pulsing spike, trying to coax the rush of fluid he so desperately desired. Prowl purred as he took over most of the work, pressing Jazz back against the wall to give the other officer a thorough work over. Jazz let his helm rest against the wall as Prowl's servos found their way beneath the rigid plating protecting his squishier protoform. 

 Prowl purred as he kneaded the soft protoform, slowing his thrusts to give Jazz a chance to recover. Jazz huffed, using the wall as support as he dug his fingers into his undercarriage- popping the hatch and allowing his feeding sacks to pop free of the confining bumper. Prowl grinned as he nuzzled into the ample protoform, kissing the manubrium and teasingly rolling his spike within his lover's valve. "I do believe mine are bigger."

Jazz half-laughed, half- groaned, shoving his lover onto his back and squeezing his servos into Prowl's grille. "That may be Prowler dear, but yers ain't swollen with fraggin' mechamones." Jazz growled, but it quickly cut off with a rev as he shifted his weight, taking the control of the pace from the enforcer. Prowl purred as he bucked upwards to assist, but the sudden servos dragging down his wings cut him off with a spine-locking arch. Jazz purred, using his grip on Prowl as a counterbalance to keep himself upright. The wings were still undeniably soft- the plushy interior of Prowl's cab acting as a lovely counterpoint to the specialized waxy-polish that protected the sensitive metal frame. 

Both servos mapped the softness that was unconsciously presented to the ops mech, each curve and rivet explored to the fullest by playfully devious servos. Jazz grinned like the devil he was as his digits curled around the interior handles, and Prowl barely managed to online his optics before Jazz yanked the shiny chrome- Sending the enforcer into a seizing overload. The ops mech rode him through it, rolling his valve and fluffing his plating as nanite rich transfluid flooded him from within. That first swath of heat threatened to boil Jazz' processor, but his coding craved more than what one overload could possibly offer. 

With the next gush of pheromones, what tattered pieces of reason were left behind, and Jazz was promptly flipped onto his back. Prowl hovered over him, angling the other's hips so no transfluid would escape their coupling. The brutal pace that followed lead to another embarrassingly quick overload and a gleeful squeal, drowning the small cave in the smell of burnt ozone and the tang of overclocked engines. Jazz' helm lulled back with a wicked grin, onyx servos drifting up to pull Prowl to his chest once more- his visor lighting up with glee when Prowl gave him another washing of transfluid and a more-than-slightly-possessive growl. 

It took several more overloads to sate that errant code- insistently pinging him for  _more_  until his entire gestation tank had been filled, and the growling dominance of the spark-merge was to finally commence. Neither mech was truly very concerned about conception, as the officers were required to change their blockers once a vorn. Since both Prowl and Jazz were sexually active, they had both had gotten them changed within the quartex. That left the two with a final processor-melting overload, and a long shutdown to help kindle the newspark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz woke first, scanning his surroundings before taking in the view of the still-unconscious Praxian on top of him. His legs hurt, his valve was ablaze with a strange tingle, and his plating looked like he had taunted Ravage one too many times, but he felt far more sated than he had been in a long time.  _And_  his conception scans came back negative. The Ops commander allowed his frame to relax, savoring the feel of Prowl's spike in his valve- where it would remain until Prowl awoke, completing the heat cycle. He rolled his hips upwards, ignoring the half-stressed pitch of his engine.If he was gonna be stuck under his mate with a spike in his valve, by the pit was he gonna make due.

By the time Prowl began to stir, the other monochrome was halfway to another overload and  _more_ than frustrated with his lack of completion. "Ngh, bout time ya woke up Prowler! Do you know how hard it is to fuck mahself when yer all limp ontoppa me?!" Prowl purred sleepily, quickly bucking up into the squirming commander. "I'm afraid I do not, but I can assume. Did you conceive?" 

Jazz shook his head with a negative, hooking his legs around Prowl's waist once more. "Nope. Now, c'mon and frag me real good, before the numb wears off and I regret the next week of my existence." Prowl chuckled, pushing himself upright and flaring his wings in an impressive display that had Jazz's hips rolling desperately. "So demanding...Perhaps I should leave you like this? Teach you a lesson about manners." 

The Polyhexian growled darkly, but drifted off with a quiet gasp as Prowl heeded his request. Prowl shifted his weight, gripping Jazz' chest and squeezing the still-swollen sacs affectionately. "At least we still have  _some_  fun to look forward to. Like all that  _paperwork_  I had to abandon to frag you senseless. You  _will-"_ A particularly hard thrust had Jazz keening, gripping Prowl's forearms in desperation. "-be helping me complete it all...Right Jazzy?" 

An angry snarl followed, accompanied by Jazz desperately bucking upwards. "Yea, sure,  jus fuck me  _right_  Prowler! Do I needta sign ya up for a basic interfa-mmph!" Prowl clamped a hand over Jazz' mouth, slipping an arm under Jazz' hips to help with the angle. Judging from the screech, he had calculated it correctly. With the pace was set once more, Prowl leant in to kiss Jazz' throat teasingly- hiding the smirk on his faceplate as Jazz' frame locked up beneath him with yet another piercing wail. No matter how many heat cycles they had been through together,  _this_  was  _always_  the best part. 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~Bonus Scene~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Jazz stretched as he left the medbay, looking over his freshly refinished plating. A ping from Prowl rested in his inbox, as well as a summons to his office. The TIC shrugged, heading down the hall with only a few distractions. Mirage gave him a flirtatious wink as he passed, causing Hound to roll his optics at his lover. Once reaching Prowl's office, the bouncy mech stepped inside with a grin- only for the door to slam closed behind him and lock. The grin fell as he slowly turned back to the Praxian sitting at the desk. 

"Uhhh....Hiya Prowler. Wassup?" Jazz asked, stepping backwards casually- already trying to remotely hack the door. Prowl stood with a liquid grace, stepping around the desk and quickly pinning the TIC against the wall. "I do believe you agreed to help me with paperwork Jazz." 

From his office, Optimus faintly heard what might have been a heartbroken wail. It was easily shrugged off as he ate another sweet from a familiar Praxian's candy stash- all wrapped up with a bright red bow. 

**Author's Note:**

> the coordinates 46.2504° N, 122.1528° W are for Spirit Lake near Mt. St. Helens. Hooray google maps! <3
> 
> Jazz' movements are inspired by the Dancer of the Boreal Valley. I did my best to translate that balance and grace into words, but here's one of her fights to get an idea of what I was going for. Hopefully I did it justice.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPReLrVTqtc


End file.
